parody

I wrote this four years ago, but as piles of laundry await, here is its debut on The Writable Life.

Sung to the tune of “The Sound of Silence” and with apologies to Simon & Garfunkel:

Hello laundry, my old friend.
I’ve come to wash you once again
because a hamper quickly filling
left its stink while I was sleeping.
And the loads that multiplied in my hamper still remain
despite the sounds of laundry.

For many hours I toiled alone,
GE machines of steel atop stone.
‘Neath the glare of florescent light,
I put collars in “hot” and “whites.”
When my eyes were caught by the flash of a Dreft sign
that poured inside,
and made the sounds of laundry.

And in the florescent light I saw ten thousand parents, maybe more.
Parents sorting without blinking.
Parents washing while multi-tasking.
Parents folding clothes that children always tear,
and no one dares disturb the sounds of laundry.

“Parents” said I, “You already know
laundry like disease grows.
Hear my curses that I might teach you.
Take my detergent that I might reach you.”
But my words like empty bottles fell,
and echoed in the hampers of laundry.

And the parents slaved and slaved
before the piles of laundry their kids made.
And the Dreft flashed out its warning,
in the bubbles that it was forming.
And the bubbles said, “The cries of the parents
are written on their bedroom walls
and in tears that fall.”
And was lost in the sounds of laundry.